


You Must Like Me For Me

by easemyworriedmind



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Blowjobs, First Time, Flirting, M/M, post-undiscovered country
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-19
Packaged: 2019-06-10 15:44:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15294753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/easemyworriedmind/pseuds/easemyworriedmind
Summary: “What do I look like right now?” Carisi asked, walking right into the line of fire like he always did.Rafael groaned. “Like a red flag,” he said. Carisi laughed, caught off guard.“What? Why?” He said.“Because you come on very strong for someone with no idea what they’re doing,” Rafael replied, leaning back further against his side of the couch and making his face unreadable.





	1. Chapter 1

_hey_

Rafael’s screen lit up with a text from “Carisi NYPD.” He squinted at it, picking up his phone from his chest and setting the latest tedious Jonathan Franzen novel on the coffee table in front of him. He sat up right on his couch. As he stretched his legs out, his phone lit up again.

_can I talk to you?_

Rafael smoothed his thumb over the bottom of his iPhone’s internal keyboard. His mind still hadn’t caught up to what he was looking at. A late night text from Carisi? It’d been a few weeks since he’d stopped working in the district attorney’s office. Maybe the news hadn’t reached the officer yet.

_Now?_

The gray bubbles popped up almost immediately. Rafael knew Carisi knew he’d left his job and he knew he knew why so…

_yeah. now._

It occurred to Rafael then that him leaving his job might be exactly what the young detective wanted to talk to him about. He placed a hand on his forehead in frustration and leaned down with one elbow on his knee. This was what he’d been hoping to avoid. He didn’t need the good Catholic coming down on him about the sanctity of every life. But if Carisi wanted to yell about Christ, Rafael figured he could spare five minutes of his now endless free time for their lord and savior.

_Do you want to call me?_

They’d never talked on the phone about anything that wasn’t work. He couldn’t imagine how this was going to go. He watched the gray bubbles pop up and down as Carisi started and stopped typing. Then, finally:

_in person. where do you live?_

The fucking balls on this kid. If he really wanted to have this fight, Rafael thought, then fine. Let him come by. He pictured Carisi pacing in his own apartment, practicing having the courage to come confront Rafael about the horrific nature of what he’d done. Maybe he’d been working himself up to do it for weeks and today was the day he decided he was going to give his former mentor a piece of his mind. It was almost an amusing thought.

_Upper West._

The reply came immediately.

_i can be there in 40. text me the address._

—-

Rafael took the call from the doorman and verified Carisi’s identity. He didn’t pick his book back up — only sat quietly going through his phone as he waited the 5 minutes for the other man to ride the elevator up to his floor. Then came the knock.

Rafael stood, took a deep breath, and opened the door. It was 11:14 pm. Carisi stood on the threshold to his apartment in dark blue jeans, nice but worn out white Nike sneakers, a black Fordham t-shirt and a black leather jacket. His hands rested in his pockets. His hair was losing its hold on the gel that had probably been in it all day. He didn’t look drunk. 

“Hey,” he said.

Rafael moved to the side and gestured. “Come in,” he replied. Carisi hesitated for a moment before stepping inside. Rafael shut the door.

“Wow,” Carisi said. “Nice place.”

Rafael turned and shrugged. “Thanks,” he replied. “Can I… get you something?” 

This was absurd. This whole thing was absurd. Why was Carisi in his apartment looking like the cover of some magazine called A Guido’s Guide to the Weekend? Why wasn’t he yelling? Why was he just staring at Rafael? It occurred to him then what he was wearing: gray Harvard sweatpants from 10 years ago, no shoes or socks, and a lightweight plain maroon shirt. If Carisi looked casual, Rafael looked practically asleep. But fuck it, this was his house. Was he supposed to change clothes so the detective felt more comfortable? He’d be gone in 10 minutes anyway.

Carisi shook his head. “I’m okay, thanks.” He made no moves to sit or to start talking so Rafael turned and sat back where he’d been on the couch, leaning against the corner and throwing one arm over the side.

“What did you want to talk to me about, detective?” He said in a tone that denoted getting this over with.

Carisi sat down on the other side of the couch, clasping his hands together and looking down. Rafael ducked his head to encourage him to speak.

“Sorry,” Carisi laughed. “Um. Sorry. I just… I practiced talking to you for a couple days and then… and then I got here and it’s like whoosh,” he said, bringing one hand up to his head and gesturing as if an explosion had cleared him of all coherent thought.

Rafael wasn’t sure what to do. “Take your time,” he said lightly. “But since I’m unemployed now, I do charge by the hour.”

The joke finally allowed Carisi to look up at him and Rafael smiled wryly. Carisi chuckled. “Okay,” he said. “I need to say that I’m mad at you.”

Rafael snorted. Here it comes. “Okay,” he said.

“But not for the reason you think I’m mad at you,” Carisi continued.

Oh, this should be good, Rafael thought. It already sounded like a high school girl trying to get her boyfriend to understand why liking another girl’s bikini photo was _exactly_ like cheating.

“A game,” he said, trying to seem unaffected but knowing he was about to have the exact conversation he was trying to never have. “Okay, why are you mad at me and why do I THINK you’re mad at me?”

Carisi turned and shifted his leg up on the couch so he was facing Rafael. He kept eye contact.

“I am mad at you because you think you know exactly what I’m going to be like about something without even seeing what I’m actually like about it,” he said.

“Carisi,” Rafael groaned. “You’re speaking in riddles and my head hurts. Just tell me you’re upset for some pro-life all-lives-matter reason and I’ll refuse to apologize and we can get this over with.”

“There!” Carisi said, excitedly pointing at him. “That!”

Rafael threw up his hands. “I’ve been through the ringer and I really don’t need you coming over here, chest puffed up, ready to confront me about the morality of a decision I’ve made peace with—“

“God, you don’t know me at all,” Carisi said, loudly speaking over him.

“Excuse me?” Rafael said. And that opened the floodgates.

“Do you honestly think, after all the time we’ve spent together, that I came here to tell you some black-and-white anti-abortion bullshit church rhetoric?” He said. “Do you think I’m like, a one-dimensional cardboard cut out of a Catholic with no fucking mind of my own?”

His voice was raising and Rafael let him go. This wasn’t the fight he expected to have but it was the same sort of righteous anger.

“So what?” Rafael said derisively. “So you came here to tell me you’re a liberal Catholic? Good for you.”

“No, you asshole,” Carisi sighed. “I came here because you didn’t even give me the chance to tell you what I thought or to help you! You just assumed you knew what I was gonna think about everything and then cut me off. That’s not what friends do.”

Rafael blinked at him. “Friends?”

“Yeah,” Carisi said, lowering his voice and calming down a little. “Friends.”

“Huh,” Rafael replied. 

“I know you think I’m stupid but I’m not brainwashed,” he said. “I talk to my priest about a lot of stuff. A lot of stuff. And it’s not… it’s not all yes or no, right or wrong answers in life so…” He leaned back, keeping his eyes on Rafael. “I just think you could have talked to me instead of writing me off. You really thought I came here to yell at you about abortion? I work with rape victims, Rafael.”

Rafael shrugged, “I had no idea why you wanted to come here.”

“Because we’re friends,” he said again, slower. “Because I wanted to see you even if you were like, fine to never see me again.”

There was a silent beat. Rafael cleared his throat. “I don’t,” he started. “I don’t think you’re stupid.”

Carisi almost exactly mimicked Rafael’s earlier shrug. 

“I really don’t,” he repeated. “I apologize if you thought I did.” Rafael paused. Ah, fuck it. “I didn’t want… I didn’t think I could handle you looking at me like I’d disappointed you.”

Carisi furrowed his brow. “Disappointed me?”

Oh, god, Rafael, he thought. Here we go. “It affected me, the…um, the hero worship stuff,” he said. “To have someone look at you… the way you looked at me. I didn’t necessarily know how to deal with it so I brushed you off.”

Carisi nodded. He was listening intently. He’d probably never considered another reason why Rafael was so curt with him, other than thinking lowly of him. “I never thought you were stupid,” Rafael continued. “I felt like I’d failed you.”

Carisi swallowed a lump in his throat and whispered, “You didn’t fail me.”

“Well,” Rafael replied. “I sort of did.”

“No,” Carisi said. “You did what you felt was right. That could never disappoint me.”

Rafael nodded, “Thank you. Thanks for… saying that.” God, Carisi was so heartfelt. So genuine. How did someone like him even make it through the day in this city? How could he, after everything he’d been through and everything he’d seen in the line of duty, still wear his heart directly on his sleeve? Rafael felt so clammed up comparatively, and here was Carisi, coming over late at night just to spill feelings everywhere because he felt it was important. Because he felt Rafael was important. Jesus. They were perfect opposites — or maybe they had been once and weren’t so much anymore. Carisi was too much. Carisi always got into his fucking head.

They sat in silence for a moment until Carisi let out a deep breath and relaxed his shoulders. “I’m sorry about putting you on a pedestal,” he said. “That wasn’t fair.”

Rafael smirked. “It’s okay,” he said. “I am pretty exceptional.”

Carisi rolled his eyes. “Well,” he said. “The sincerity was nice while it lasted.”

Rafael laughed. When he looked back at Carisi, he was staring at him.

“What?” Rafael said.

“You almost look like a real person right now,” the other man replied and then his cheeks immediately flushed as if he’d just realized what he’d said. “I mean you look comfortable. It’s weird.”

They stared at each other. It was a moment like many others when Rafael had been sure Carisi didn’t realize was happening between the two of them. That split second in the air where the conversation could have become flirty, but then it didn’t. Rafael backing away before Carisi could figure out that what he was doing _was_ flirting. Rafael thought the whole thing was an unfortunate mix of the aforementioned pedestal and of Carisi not being aware of what constituted a come-on between men.

Rafael made a face, “I hope you talk to women that way too.”

Carisi snorted, “It’s basically just as bad, yeah.”

“Well, I can’t help you there,” Rafael said. Again, fuck it. He no longer worked for the district attorney. He no longer had to see this man during business hours. He had nothing to hide and there weren’t really any stakes. Carisi was a big boy. Rafael wasn’t going to treat him with straight-guy-benefit-of-the-doubt anymore. He’d come to Rafael’s apartment. He’d demanded they talk. He was still here, commenting on Rafael’s looks. If he wanted to play, he could decide when he’d had enough. They were still just talking. Nothing had been too overt yet.

“What do I look like right now?” Carisi asked, walking right into the line of fire like he always did. 

Rafael groaned. “Like a red flag,” he said. Carisi laughed, caught off guard.

“What? Why?” He said.

“Because you come on very strong for someone with no idea what they’re doing,” Rafael replied, leaning back further against his side of the couch and making his face unreadable. He sat up a bit, exerting a confident dominance again. A facade he’d used with the detective before. One he missed using in the courtroom.

Carisi licked his lips. “What am I doing?”

They looked at each other. Rafael smirked. “You’re sticking around my apartment and flirting with me,” he said.

Carisi dipped his head and tilted it back and forth. “Yeah, maybe a little,” he conceded.

“Why?” Rafael asked.

Carisi hesitated and looked down. His nerves suddenly shot through his tight shoulders to his hands, which started shaking a little. Rafael noticed but didn’t mention it. He wasn’t 100 percent sure what was going on. Carisi tried to lock his hands together, to subtly stop their movement. 

Rafael scooted closer. Carisi didn’t move away. He was suddenly hit with a huge wave of college nostalgia. He remembered flashes of sitting on dorm beds with boys who never talked to him during the day, whose hands shook just like Carisi’s as they undid his belt buckle. Who begged him to show them what to do. He’d sworn he was never going to be that for anyone again. He was in his late 40s, for Pete’s sake.

But Carisi looked delicious. And it had been years. _Years_ of this back and forth. And they weren’t coworkers anymore. And Carisi didn’t have any other good reason to dangle himself in front of Rafael like this. It was over. Rafael wasn’t ADA Barba anymore. He was just Rafael.

Carisi kept his eyes on his hands. “Because I’m flirting with you,” he said. 

Rafael leaned in closer to Carisi’s side, lowering his voice and speaking hot into his ear. “Oh,” he replied, casually. “I wasn’t aware this confrontation was also a booty call. I would have worn my formal sweatpants.”

Carisi laughed, relaxing a little. “I didn’t mean for it to…. I wasn’t…”

Rafael slid a hand forward onto Carisi’s thigh, moving it toward the inner seam of his jeans. “Stop talking,” he said against Carisi’s jawline. Carisi groaned.

Rafael’s hand traveled up and down the inside of Carisi’s thigh until it landed over his fly. He traced his knuckles along it, finally settling on the button at the top, flicking it back and forth with his thumb, teasing. 

But Carisi was already moving, a blur as he turned his head and desperately pushed his lips against Rafael’s. He smelled like hair product and worn leather. His big hands came up to bury themselves in Rafael’s hair and Rafael could feel they were still shaking. He gasped, opening his mouth and sliding his tongue alongside Rafael’s in a show of classic Carisi enthusiasm. It was electrifyingly good. Carisi kissed like he was about to die and would never get another chance to kiss ever again. He brought Rafael’s body practically into his lap with the force of it. Rafael hadn’t been kissed that way in ten years. 

Carisi pulled his head closer, fingers tightening in Rafael’s hair and on the back of his skull. He breathed into his mouth, practically drinking him. Rafael opened the top button on Carisi’s jeans and Carisi almost swallowed both their tongues, biting at Rafael’s bottom lip.

Rafael pulled away, their mouths a mess of each other’s saliva and pushed Carisi back against the sofa, climbing over him between his legs. Carisi tore off his leather jacket, tossing it onto the floor and ripping his shirt over his head with the same regard. Rafael pulled down his zipper and Carisi lifted his ass so they could both get his pants off his hips a little. He was wearing sky blue boxer briefs. Rafael imagined him picking them out because they matched his eyes. He thought about Carisi walking around his own apartment in these boxer briefs and nothing else, cooking or playing video games in them. He looked back up at Carisi who was watching him, shell-shocked and wild. He placed a hand on either side of Carisi’s underwear and pants and pushed them down roughly, to his thighs. His cock sprang free, slapping back up against the perfect V of his pelvic bone, half-hard. 

Rafael leaned down over Carisi’s body, placing an open-mouth kiss to his happy trail. Carisi threw his head back and hissed through his teeth.

“Is this okay?” Rafael asked, looking up at him. Carisi nodded. Rafael pressed his nose further down into the tuft of hair surrounding Carisi’s cock. He breathed in, nuzzling his face into the gap of Carisi’s thigh, pressing both hands hard into his skin. He was savoring him, dousing himself in his scent and sweat. At that, Carisi started shaking with his whole body, no longer keeping it contained to his hands. Rafael opened his mouth against the bottom side of Carisi’s cock, pressing his tongue flat against it and sucking a long kiss all the way up to the tip. Carisi convulsed, bringing his hands up to his face and covering his eyes, elbows out, head thrown back. The sound he let out was like a sob.

This was such a bad idea, but Rafael was drunk on the smell of him, the way he twitched under every touch, the way he seemed to be having some sort of spiritual experience. He was guessing Carisi had only thought about this. Had maybe, like a lot of the men Rafael had been with, played with the scenario in fantasy. Had perhaps gone out to a gay bar one night and kissed a stranger before fear took over. He wondered if this was Carisi’s first time confronting the reality of it, instead of seeing how far he could take flirting with Rafael over jury selection or late night case work. He’d probably had the same thought Rafael had: Fuck it. What was keeping them from acting on this now? If Rafael was some experimental fling then he had more than enough time to be that.

He kept sucking, alternating along both sides of Carisi’s cock for a moment, before unceremoniously lifting off and bringing his mouth down in a tight circle over the head, slipping his hand around the base to jack Carisi into his mouth.

“Oh my god,” Carisi moaned, still having his own semi-private moment with his hands over his face and his chest heaving. His body was bright red. His abs, his defined chest, his muscular arms, his long neck tilted back. Rafael sped up, spit covering his hand and Carisi’s dick and his pubes and thighs and Rafael’s chin. The sound of his mouth moving was obscene. “Fuck,” Carisi gasped, “you're so good at this.”

He lifted his hips and Rafael didn’t back up so the head of his cock slid shallowly in and out of Rafael’s throat. Carisi brought his hands down from his face to the sides of Rafael’s head and Rafael’s opened his mouth, letting even more spit cover their bodies — Carisi’s thighs and ass, Rafael’s mouth and neck. Carisi lifted his face and shoulders so he could watch his cock slide in and out of Rafael’s lips. Rafael didn’t look up but he could feel Carisi’s eyes on him.

“Look at me,” Carisi said, sounding strangled, sucking in breaths between words. Rafael shook his head. Carisi pulled on his hair. “Look at me,” he repeated.

Rafael lifted his eyes and they looked at each other. Carisi’s expression was so open. So fully vulnerable. He was almost hiccuping with lost breath and intensity. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath. Rafael kept tightening his hand and he could feel Carisi getting harder and harder. 

“Oh, don’t stop,” Carisi said, lifting his hips and watching with pure fascination as his dick kept moving slowly in and out of Rafael’s parted lips. “Where can I come?” He asked. So polite. Rafael raised an eyebrow and then slid his entire cock into his mouth and down his throat in one motion. It was a sucker punch and he knew it, but what was he if not a show off? If this was already happening, he was going to make damn sure he ruined Carisi for life.

Carisi whined and his eyes rolled back. His thighs tightened and his body went stiff. Rafael swallowed once and Carisi shook. “I’m…” he managed before he groaned and streaked Rafael’s throat, pulsing and twitching. Carisi’s fingers dug into his head as he swallowed. The other man kept shaking.

After a few seconds, Rafael pulled off a bit, catching some of his come on his tongue. Carisi tasted sweet and salty. When Rafael sat up, the scent floated into his nostrils, and coated his taste buds. That was one thing he loved about blowing men. The absolute mess of saliva and come that he was pretty sure he could taste hours after he’d even brushed his teeth. He knew tomorrow he’d touch his tongue to the roof of his mouth and imagine he could still feel Carisi’s come there. He swallowed what he still had in his mouth before he realized Carisi had been watching him the entire time.

He looked wrecked. “Wow,” he said, still breathing hard. “That’s the first time I haven’t been mad at your mouth.”

Rafael ran a hand through his own messed up hair. He took in Carisi — shirtless, sweating, covered in his spit, his jeans and boxer briefs tight around his thighs, shoes still on. Rafael wanted to bite him all over.

“Very funny,” he said, settling on his knees between Carisi’s legs. “Are you okay?”

Carisi lifted himself a little, maneuvering one leg awkwardly around Rafael so he was sitting. He wiggled so he could pull his underwear and jeans back up his body, wincing at the wetness. Rafael watched him.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I’m great. Why? Are you okay?”

Rafael snorted. “Yes,” he said. “But that’s not the first time I’ve done that.”

Carisi rolled his eyes, running his hands through his hair and instead of fixing it, just making it stand up even more. His “sex hair” was unmistakable. It was a fantastic look on him. “I’ve gotten head before.”

“Oh pardon me,” Rafael replied. “I didn’t realize you went around getting blown by male ex-colleagues every day.”

Carisi hit him lightly on the shoulder with the back of his hand. Rafael smirked. Carisi sighed, leaning forward. Rafael shamelessly watched the muscles in his bare back move. What would they look like under him? 

“Well, I don’t think,” Carisi started. “…I don’t think this was out of nowhere.”

Rafael couldn’t help himself. He just started laughing. Carisi smiled at him. “You agree?”

Rafael nodded, still laughing. “Sorry,” he said, collecting himself. “That was an understatement. Yes. I agree.”

Carisi leaned forward and pecked Rafael on the lips, keeping his face close. “I want to touch you,” he said.

Rafael shook his head. “No.”

Carisi scooted closer. “Then, will you fuck me?”

The question made Rafael’s stomach flip flop and he pictured throwing Carisi’s legs over his shoulders and watching his face as he felt that fullness for the first time. God help him. But he still shook his head.

Carisi ducked and nuzzled Rafael’s jaw. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t need you giving me a piss-poor hand job and then waking up tomorrow regretting it,” he replied. Carisi frowned into a kiss by his ear. “You’re mean,” he said without much bite.

“And I won’t fuck you because I’m not letting you get it all out of your system in one night,” Rafael said. “I need you to keep coming back.”

Carisi laughed, pulling his face away to look at Rafael. “You really think I won’t come back?”

“I don’t know,” Rafael said. “I need a trump card. I need something you want.”

Carisi shook his head. “Your ego is out of control,” he replied. Then, he leaned back into the couch and sighed. “I’m tired. Can I stay here?”

Rafael rolled his eyes and stood, “Yes, come on. But first rule, if you hog the covers, I’ll kill you.”

Carisi stood and Rafael walked ahead of him to the bedroom. “I can’t wait to hear the second rule,” Carisi said.

“The second rule is take off your fucking sneakers before you hit my carpet,” he said. At the door to the bedroom, Carisi toed off his Nikes and socks. Rafael walked over to the dresser and took out a pair of big sweatpants promoting the Brooklyn DA’s office softball team.

“These are definitely not yours,” Carisi said, stripping off his pants and underwear and sliding the pajama bottoms up his body. Rafael hit the light switch.

He pulled down his comforter and climbed into bed. “The third rule is don’t ask questions like that,” he said. Carisi got in on the other side. It was quiet for a moment. Then, he scooted over and threw an arm over Rafael’s chest, snuggling his head into his side.

“Shut up,” he whispered. Rafael snorted, “I didn’t say anything.”

“In the morning, you better buy me breakfast,” Carisi mumbled.

“ _I’m_ the one that’s unemployed,” Rafael whispered back, but Carisi was already asleep.


	2. Rita Has Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short little morning-after addendum featuring everyone's favorite defense attorney, ex-girlfriend, and gossip hound Rita Calhoun.

“And when I woke up, he was in my shower.”

Rafael sat across from Rita on the sunny front patio of their usual chic Chelsea lunch spot, smirking and holding his champagne flute up with an air of amused victory. Rita’s arms were crossed over her chest, digging into the cool blue of her casual weekend cardigan. One of her perfectly-plucked eyebrows was raised on her unreadable expression. (Though if one had to read it, it might have read exasperated.) Her own now-empty champagne flute stayed on the table in front of her. 

“And?” She said, calmly.

Rafael took a slow sip from his glass, savoring her anticipation.

“And I got in with him, blew him again, we got out, we got bagels for breakfast, I dropped him at the subway, and now I’m here — having mimosas with you.”

Rafael grinned into his next sip, finishing his drink off and placing the glass on the table directly across from Rita’s with minimal flair, considering the tone of his voice. He was having fun for the first time in a month, as far as Rita could tell. “Another round?” He asked, casually. She hated to burst his bubble. She wondered if she even should, but then again what were old friends/exes/frenemies/best friends for?

“Rafael,” Rita sighed.

“Rita,” Rafael matched her tone.

_“Rafael.”_

__

“Rita.”

Rita uncrossed her arms and gestured to the waiter for another couple of mimosas. The waiter nodded. Then, she looked back at Rafael.

“You already know what I’m going to say,” she said.

Rafael smirked again, comically batting his eyelashes, “I have a couple guesses.”

“One,” Rita replied, ignoring him. “You’re a moron.”

“Don’t go easy on me, Calhoun,” Rafael cooed. “Tell me what you really think.”

“I think that handsome piece is in love with you,” she said, sternly.

The waiter dropped two more bright orange mimosas in front of them and removed the empty glasses.

“Thank you, darling,” Rita said before turning back to Rafael.

“And two,” she said, picking up her newly full glass. “I thought we were done playing Rafael Barba’s patented Intimacy Avoidance Games.”

Rafael laughed, “I don’t think he’s in love with me.”

Rita rolled her eyes. “Oh god,” she said, holding up her drink. “Where’s the waiter? I’m going to need a whole pitcher of these.”

“He’s not even gay, Rita,” Rafael said, but he was smirking so hard as he said it that he almost couldn't get the words out.

Rita slid her glass in front of her and placed her head gently but dramatically on the table. “I can’t with this,” she said. “Go back to being depressed, please. Because this smarmy idiocy, I can’t take.”

“Get up,” Rafael tapped her shoulder. “People are staring.”

“They _should_ stare,” she mumbled into the wood before lifting her head up and sighing. “Rafael, Puppy Dog Esquire’s been following you around for years and you thought it’d be a good idea to suck his brain out through his dick… twice?!”

“Keep your voice down,” Rafael hushed. “My reputation is already in the gutter.”

“Then who cares what you do anymore?” She replied. “I’m just saying he’s obviously obsessed with you and now he’s never gonna leave you alone.”

“Well, first of all, who says I want to be left alone?” Rafael said. “And second of all, he’s a big boy—“ he ignored Rita’s loud snort “—he enters at his own risk.”

“Oh, I don’t think he’s the one doing the entering,” she scoffed. Rafael cheers-ed his glass at her into the air, taking a long sip and maintaining way too much eye contact considering the filthy nature of her joke.

“Okay,” Rita said. “Look.” She leaned down into the table, placing one palm over Rafael’s free hand and patting it lightly. “I’m going to forward him the Powerpoint.”

Rafael groaned, “Haven’t I been through enough?”

“Clearly not,” she replied. They stared at each other, again silently trying to read the other’s eyes like they’d done countless times during classes in law school and in court, up until a few weeks ago.

“The Powerpoint” was something Rita had made their senior year of college. It was a document chronicling the exact way Rafael went about relationships so as not to make himself at all vulnerable. Rita had created it after their second break up, not out of malice but purely to remind herself to never ever get back together with Rafael Barba.

It wasn’t until their second year of law school that she got drunk and showed it to him. Rafael had been stunned. Rita was a very good lawyer.

“Fine. I won’t send him the Powerpoint,” she said. “But for the record, going down on the person without letting them touch you for a week is on the second slide.”

“Don’t fix what ain’t broke,” Rafael replied. “Isn’t that how the folksy saying goes?”

Rita nodded. “I think this is good for you,” she said, breaking their eye contact to take another sip of her mimosa. “A straight man ten years younger than you who is probably confusing professional admiration with homosexuality? Fantastic, Rafael.”

Rafael snorted. “It’s 2018, Rita,” he said. “He could be bisexual or pansexual.”

Rita killed her drink, “I will give you 50 dollars if he knows the _word_ ‘pansexual,’” she said. 

Rafael shook his head. “The accent’s a red herring,” he said. “He’s smarter than you think. He passed the bar first go. He’s really quick. Very observant.”

Rita slowly smiled. “I know all that,” she said. “I just wanted you to say it.”

Rafael blinked, “What? Why?”

“Because you’re obsessed with him too,” she replied.

Rafael made a buzzer sound like you’d hear on a game show. “Incorrect,” he said. “I’m happy he’s not angry at me because that would have been boring and sad, I think he is good company, and I think he is hot. End of list.”

Rita rolled her eyes, calling the waiter over with a flick of her wrist. “I have to go,” she said. “I can’t listen to you lie to yourself for another moment.” When the waiter walked over, Rita handed him her credit card. He thanked her and walked away.

“What do I owe you?” Rafael said, shifting to take out his wallet.

“Drinks are on me today,” Rita replied. “Just make me the best man in your wedding and we’ll call it even.” Rafael chuckled, shaking his head. 

“Also,” Rita said. “Get a job.”


	3. The First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was super not meant to be a series at all, but I'm procrastinating other work by writing in this universe I guess. Why not? Let's have 'em finally fuck. 
> 
> Warning for probably bad Spanish and Italian.

Sonny heaved a breath into the pillow, knitting his shoulders together and pulling them up to his ears. Rafael slid his left hand from the small of Sonny’s back to the middle of his shoulder blades, humming softly.

“Shhh,” he said. “You have to breath.”

Sonny turned so Rafael could see the profile of his face. His mouth was open, his eyes screwed shut, his cheeks red and his graying hair mussed. “I _am_ breathing,” he huffed.

Rafael used his other hand to push his first two fingers further into Sonny, who lifted his hips to meet them. He crooked his fingers and Sonny whimpered. Rafael sat back between his legs, sliding his free hand down slowly from Sonny’s ass to his thigh to his shaking calf, looping his hand around his ankle and squeezing tightly.

“Do you want me to stop?” He whispered. Sonny shook his head. “No, no,” he sighed. “One more.”

This hard-headed idiot. He was so beyond gorgeous like this. Rafael’s slick fingers moving inside of him looked perfect. His body was so long and lean. Rafael wanted to bite his beautiful hipbones and lick each of his abs individually. He settled for leaning down to what he could reach and flattening his tongue on the area above his fingers. Sonny whined. 

“Aflojar, Sonny,” Rafael whispered into his pink skin. Sonny’s shoulders dropped and Rafael felt him loosen enough for him to slide a third finger in, twisting it around. “Si, si. Eres un chico tan bueno para mí.”

Sonny reached in front of himself, lifting his hips higher. He started stroking his cock, which allowed him to open up even more for Rafael. “Was it the Spanish?” Rafael joked, referring to Sonny now furiously jacking himself off. Sonny buried his head in the pillow. 

“Turn your face,” Rafael said. “You can’t breathe like that.” Sonny huffed and turned his face back, opening one eye to look at Rafael as he kept touching himself. 

“We all have party tricks," he said, between deep breaths. "I can break out the Italian." Rafael smirked. 

“Flip over,” he replied, slowly taking his fingers out of Sonny. Sonny sighed, flopping his body over so he was on his back and automatically spreading his legs. How quickly they learn, Rafael thought. He crawled between Sonny’s knees, grabbing the lube from their side and squirting a bit more on his fingers.

“Are you going to take your clothes off?” Sonny asked. Sonny was completely naked, and he had been for a while. Rafael had taken his shoes and socks off, but was otherwise still clothed in dark jeans and a deep purple button down shirt. His sleeves were rolled up and his first two buttons were undone exposing his chest hair, but his shield of control was still firmly in place. Rafael slid his three fingers easily back into Sonny’s ass and Sonny’s body tightened again, his head falling back.

“Oh, _god_ ,” he said, his hand flying back to his cock. 

“Depends,” Rafael said. “Are you gonna stop sassing me?”

Sonny shook his head. Rafael shoved his fingers in deeper, crooking them up. Sonny’s eyes shot open. Rafael hit that same spot again, a few more times over and over. Sonny moaned. “That’s new,” he groaned. Rafael leaned over him, licking the sweat from the left side of his neck. 

“I’m gonna hit it with my cock soon,” he said into the skin below Sonny’s ear. 

Sonny gasped. “If you ever take your clothes off,” he replied.

Rafael relentlessly hit Sonny’s prostate again as he whined. “I can’t believe you’re still talking,” Rafael said.

“You can’t?” Sonny managed. Rafael took his fingers out, using his now free hands to remove his shirt. He made a face at the lube getting on the fabric near the buttons, but he figured that was his dry cleaner’s problem now. When it was off, Sonny reached up and ran his fingers through Rafael’s chest hair. “Mi fai impazzire,” he said. 

Rafael got off the bed and stood, removing his pants and black boxer briefs and kicking them to the side. Sonny spread his legs wider. “Ti desidero,” he tried again, attempting sultry.

“How does that go over with women?” Rafael replied, climbing back onto the bed while stroking himself to hardness. Sonny’s eyes were glued to his cock in anticipation and, Rafael guessed, curiosity and nerves. 

“They love it,” Sonny said. Rafael nodded, “I bet they do.” He grabbed the lube and slathered his cock with it as Sonny kept watching.

“Voy a devorarte,” Rafael said. Sonny chuckled. He knew the other man didn’t know what it meant exactly, but he knew he was challenging Sonny’s mild knowledge of Italian with his own Spanish fluency. Always antagonizing each other. It had been a while since Rafael had had a sexual partner like that. He’d forgotten how fun it could be.

He lifted Sonny’s legs over his hips and positioned himself at his entrance, leaning down to kiss him. Sonny kissed back hard, the way he always did, like he was drowning and needed Rafael’s air. Rafael pushed just a bit of the head inside him. Sonny groaned into his mouth and his body shook once. They broke their kiss.

Rafael pushed in a bit more. Sonny was so tight. “Relax,” Rafael soothed, running his free hand over Sonny’s thigh. He pushed in a bit more and was able to sheath the head. Sonny’s eyes were screwed shut. His chest was heaving. “Relax, Sonny.” Sonny let his body go as limp as he could and Rafael slid in a bit more.

“Oh my god,” Sonny said. “You feel huge. _Fuck_.”

Rafael pushed forward a little more until he was halfway in. It was too good. It was so goddamn good. He weirdly thought back to the first time he’d met Sonny. He never in a million years would have guessed they’d have ended up here. He’d spent a long time misjudging the other man, assuming things about him because of his background or his appearance. He’d half expected him to be homophobic or at least, “love the sinner, hate the sin.” Maybe his time in sex crimes had changed him. Or maybe Sonny had always been like this and Rafael had willfully missed it in an attempt to cool the way Sonny’s physicality affected him. Or maybe the years and experience had molded them both in such a way that they were now compatible beyond sexual attraction although they were certainly compatible there too. He didn’t know when Sonny had started thinking about Rafael this way. They’d never talked about it. When had Sonny started thinking about men in general? Rafael didn’t know that either. 

“Open your eyes,” he said and Sonny did, picking his head up to look at Rafael’s face. 

“Are you okay?” Rafael asked. Sonny’s cheeks were bright red. His pupils were blown wide. His legs tightened on Rafael’s sides. He lifted his hips a little and Rafael slid in some more. He was almost totally inside. 

“It burns a little,” Sonny said. “But it’s not bad. You feel…”

“I know,” Rafael said, gritting his teeth. It was taking a lot of willpower not to just start fucking him. “I’m almost… Can I do the rest?”

“There’s more?!” Sonny groaned, and for that, Rafael slid the rest of the way in slowly. Sonny wailed and whimpered. “How do you feel?” Rafael asked, keeping himself still using all his strength. 

“It’s a lot,” Sonny said. “It’s intense. Can you move?”

Gladly, Rafael thought, as he started shallowly bringing his hips back and forth. Something immediately changed in Sonny’s face. “Oh my god,” he said. “Oh wow, _oh_.” Rafael pulled out a little more and slid back inside a few times. Sonny tilted his head back and opened his mouth in a perfect circle with no sound coming out. Rafael moved one of his legs off his hip and held it out wider. They were so long. He grabbed it by the knee and angled himself to be able to move faster.

“Talk to me, Sonny,” Rafael groaned. “Are you okay?”

“I didn’t think,” he started but cut himself off, moaning as Rafael positioned himself up a bit more, fucking into him at a different angle. “Oh, _god_.”

“Talk to me, Sonny,” he chastised again. He could read a million different emotions on Sonny’s face but he wanted to pinpoint one. He wanted to make sure he was still good.

Sonny gasped. “It feels weird. But when you move, it feels so,” Rafael let go of his leg and grabbed at Sonny’s hips, pulling him further into his lap and moving faster with shallower strokes. Sonny made a series of high pitched noises. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.”

“Yeah?” Rafael sighed. “You’re doing so good, Sonny. Me estás haciendo sentir tan bien.” Sonny undulated his hips, trying to get Rafael deeper and Rafael had to close his eyes so he wouldn’t immediately come from the sheer knowledge that Sonny wanted this that badly. 

He’d spent weeks talking a big game about taking Rafael’s cock, begging for it every time they hooked up and even now, right before this, Rafael had had doubts. Sonny had never done this before. He wasn’t sure if Sonny was going to have some sort of religious sodomy-related freak out. 

He’d almost suggested Sonny fuck him first, just to keep things within his realm of experience but every single time it’d come up, Sonny had asked to bottom. Rafael didn’t know if it was out of some misplaced idea that this would prove his intentions with men once and for all, or if he was looking to hate it so he could convince himself he was actually straight. He was surprised that this was the way Sonny had wanted it. But then again he was apparently constantly making stupid assumptions when it came to Sonny. 

He placed a hand on Sonny’s chest to get better leverage and Sonny huffed air out through his nose. 

When Rafael looked down, Sonny was touching himself again. “Is this what you wanted?” He asked.

Sonny nodded as Rafael kept a steady rhythm inside him. His foot slid down to rest on Rafael’s calf as he spread his legs wider. Rafael stared down at him, “Why?”

Sonny opened his eyes. “Wanted to feel you,” he said, always so goddamn genuine. “Wanted to know it was real. Wanted to let you take it, let you have me.”

Rafael’s hips stuttered at that last one. “ _Dios mio, Sonny_ ,” he whispered. 

Sonny reached forward and grabbed Rafael’s ass, pushing him closer. “Keep going.”

Rafael leaned down and angled up again and Sonny shivered. “Right there, right there, right there,” he said. “I had no idea it would… _oh wow_.”

Rafael nodded, kissing along his jawline. “I know.” He reached a hand down and covered Sonny’s on his cock, stroking it with him. Sonny moaned. 

“Don’t come yet,” Rafael said, slowing all his movements to a stop. He pushed Sonny’s right leg over so that he was on his side and began thrusting again into the tighter space. Sonny’s hands grabbed for the sheets in front of him, scrambling for a hold on them as he let out a bunch of guttural sounds. Rafael fucked into him faster. Sonny white-knuckled the pillowcases. Rafael looked down and watched his cock sliding in and out of Sonny’s ass. Rita was right. This kid was going to be the end of him. It was too picturesque. The lines of his body, the sounds as he let himself show everything he was feeling, the stubborn way he just took it. Rafael reached up and grabbed the back of Sonny’s hair, pulling his head back and fucking into him harder. 

“I wish you could see yourself,” he said. “Next time, I’m gonna fuck you in front of a mirror and make you watch.”

Sonny whimpered. He was so goddamn loud. His noises were non-stop. Rafael thought he should have expected that. He grabbed Sonny’s leg and scooted him onto his back, leaning down and bringing Sonny’s ass back into his lap like it had been before. He began a harder rhythm, faster. Sonny’s dick was bright red and leaking as he returned to jacking off. Rafael congratulated himself on being able to keep up the pace. He wasn’t an old man just yet.

“Harder,” Sonny choked out. Rafael obliged him. Sonny threw his head back, gorgeously elongating his body. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he repeated every time Rafael moved. Rafael needed him to shut up or he felt like he might die. It was so good. Sonny was pure emotion, pure feeling. He looked lost in it. Rafael hadn’t been with someone so non-performative during sex in a long time. Sonny wasn’t showing off. He was just giving himself over to it all. Sonny’s hand flew on his cock. 

“Raf,” he spat out. “Raf, I’m gonna come.” Rafael didn’t stop. “How the fuck does it feel so good?” Sonny said, like he could read Rafael’s mind. “I’m gonna come,” he said again, and a second later, he was spilling all over his hand and his stomach, a low sound coming from his throat. He tightened around Rafael and squeezed his eyes shut. His body shuddered a few times as more come dripped out of him. Rafael wished he had a painting of this moment because it was so goddamn beautiful. He slowed for a few seconds as Sonny twitched and gasped. He pulled out carefully and tapped Sonny on the thigh.

“Turn over,” he said and in a daze, Sonny flipped onto his hands and knees, dropping to his elbows. Rafael thought he didn’t even know what he was doing, just going on instinct or what he’d seen in porn. So compliant, so willing to follow orders. Rafael sat up more and slid himself back inside him in one go, grabbing Sonny’s hips and fucking him harder and faster than he had before. 

Sonny started wailing again, sensitive and fucked out. Rafael felt like the room was spinning. “Vas a hacer que me corra,” he said, in warning, not that Sonny could understand him. At the last second, he pulled out and came all over Sonny’s lower back, gripping himself tight. “Fuck,” he said, catching his breath. “Fuck.” He slapped his cock a couple times on Sonny’s tailbone, watching the white rivulets spread. 

Sonny collapsed on the bed on his stomach, reaching one hand behind himself to feel the wetness there. “You came on my back,” he said, still breathing heavily. “What am I? A sorority girl? Even I've never done that to a lady without asking.”

In response, Rafael reached down and grabbed Sonny’s gray T-shirt from the floor by the bed, using it to wipe his come off Sonny’s back before tossing it to the floor. Sonny rolled over and shot him a look. “I’ll buy you a new one when I have a job,” Rafael said, collapsing on his back next to him.

Sonny squirmed a little. 

“You’re gonna be sore,” Rafael said, turning his head to look at him.

“Worth it,” Sonny sighed, meeting Rafael’s eyes with a goofy grin. Rafael couldn’t help but smile back. What the fuck was he even doing? Who even was he anymore?

“How’d I do, virginity-taking wise?”

Sonny made an OK sign with his hand. “10/10. Would fuck again.”

“This might seem tacky, but would you mind leaving a review on my Yelp page?” He joked. Sonny buried his head in the pillows, his eyes crinkling from laughing.

“We’re so sweaty,” he said when he looked up. “Wow. You look hot like this.” 

Rafael rolled his eyes. “I bet you say that to all the former mentors who fuck you in the ass.”

Sonny shook his head. “No, just the one.”

They met each other’s eyes and it was quiet for a moment.

“I should, uh, use the bathroom,” Sonny finally said. 

Rafael nodded. “There’s baby wipes under the sink.” Sonny made a face as he stood. “That’s disgusting. But I will probably need them, right?”

“You reap what you sow,” Rafael said to his back as he walked away shakily to the bathroom. Without turning around, Sonny shot him the middle finger.


End file.
